And What of the Silence?
by halfwayhopeful
Summary: One shot. Songfic inspired by "A Stranger" by A Perfect Circle. Severus saves Harry after Vernon nearly kills him and discovers later on that he has developed feelings for the boy. Made some revisions, no changes to plot.


And What Of The Silence?

One Shot

Disclaimer: I own nothing. "A Stranger" was written by Maynard James Keenan and Billy Howerdel and is licensed under Virgin Records America, Inc.

……….

_Cast a calming apple up and over satellites_

_To draw out the timid wild one, to convince you it's all right_

Severus frowned at the boy before him. Harry Potter, age eight, was still bleeding. He had taken the blood-replenishing potion Severus had offered, and after nearly vomiting twice, had retreated to the far corner of the Headmaster's office, shaking rather badly. Albus was at the Ministry, negotiating the boy's future residence.

Severus' alarms on the boy had gone wild earlier around six in the evening, when the boy's uncle had beaten him nearly to the brink of death. Severus had arrived in less than ten minutes, and his memory charm was perhaps a bit too strong, as it left Vernon unable to recall his own birth date.

The Potions Master couldn't care less. He had no tolerance for child abuse, having himself been abused, and the mere thought that Lily Evans' child, the supposed Savior of the World, had suffered through the same thing made his blood boil.

The boy looked terrified, and Severus nearly laughed when he caught his gaze and ducked his head into his arms, folded neatly on top of his knees.

Severus made an effort to soften his scowl, reminding himself that it wasn't the boy's fault he had been abused, and he should make an effort not to frighten him.

"Harry?"

The small boy drew further into himself. Severus felt the smallest of tugs at his neglected heart. He'd done the same thing as a child.

"I'm going to sit next to you. Is that alright?"

No response. Harry's fists were clenched, and his teeth were chattering. Sighing loudly, enough for the boy to hear, Severus squeezed himself as close to Harry as he could without touching the boy. He pulled his knees to his chest, ducked his head down as well, and waited.

It was nearly ten minutes later when he heard the first sniffle. Then came a sob: broken, wrenched, and with the remembered fear of exposure. Severus' sigh was quiet and honest, and after a moment's hesitation, he pulled the unresisting eight-year old to him. It was going to be a long night.

………..

_And I listen for the whisper of your sweet insanity_

_While I formulate denials of your effect on me._

It was during Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts that Severus felt something _more_. He was on his way to the Great Hall when he spotted Harry Potter and Cho Chang in the close confines of an alcove.

Harry's smile faded a little, and his eyes fluttered closed as he leaned forward. Their lips met, lightly, and within moments Severus had already devised several ways to kill Cho Chang, along with various options of covering his tracks.

Shaking his head minutely, Severus continued to make his way to the Great Hall, mind ablaze. What the bloody hell was he thinking? Well, killing a student wasn't all that uncommon a thought to him, but the jealously and possessiveness; he wished . . . he wanted . . . Severus shoved those thoughts out of his mind. He had practically raised the boy, looking after him those long summers at Spinner's End while his family members were in prison and his friends were away.

He had given Harry a bed, a home, and the exclusive knowledge that he could come to Severus anytime he felt he needed advice, or even sit in his office, as long as he didn't touch anything.

It was . . . frustrating . . . to know that every carefully constructed tied with the boy would be destroyed if he showed any evidence of his newfound feelings. Scowling, Severus entered the Great Hall.

………..

_You're a stranger so, what do I care?_

_You vanished today, not the first time I hear_

_All the lies . . ._

Harry's eyes blazed as his hands slammed Severus' desk, causing the older man to frown and right his ink well.

"I don't understand! Why did you . . . Why didn't you tell me?"

Severus' hands were palm up between them. "You weren't supposed to _know_ until your seventh year, Harry. If anything, I did you a favor." _Because I love you, _Severus wanted to add, but kept it to himself.

Harry shook his head, angry and not so easily diverted. "I'm going to _die _Severus. And Dumbledore _knew_. _You_ knew. And neither of you told me anything until bloody well into my _sixth year_! I'm sick of having no say in what happens to me. I want . . . I . . ." Harry's eyes lost a bit of their fire as he realized he really had no idea what he wanted other than to have a say in his own future. Severus stood and leaned over his desk, tired of the conversation as it was.

All-consuming darkness collided with fires of emerald.

"Cease your whining and _do_ something about it. You have that power, Harry. You've had it all along."

Severus watched as something broke in Harry's eyes, and something broke within him as well when the lips that had plagued him in endless daydreams, nights of fitful sleep, closed over his in an almost desperate nature.

A moan escaped him, but he hardly noticed as he braced his arms on his desk and brushed those soft lips, smiling inwardly as Harry's mouth opened obediently and his tongue gained entrance. They battled for dominance before Harry pulled away, his eyes clouded as his mouth closed slowly. And then he was gone. Severus sighed. If it _seems_ too good to be true . . .

………..

_What am I to do with all this silence?_

Severus' back was stiff and straightened up and cast Tempus. 2:00 AM. He yawned. And cringed, remembering the night a month previous.

Harry had yet to discuss it with him, or discuss anything for that matter. The boy was quiet, spoke directly to Severus only when spoken to, and even then, his answers were clipped, never anything more than what was absolutely necessary.

Severus rubbed his eyes and wished . . . wished what? He had wanted that kiss to happen for months, and it had been the most glorious forty-one seconds of his life. Slim fingers came up to thin lips now in remembrance, and Severus half-smiled, remembering boy Harry, eight years old and shaking in the corner. He was so small, innocent. Why had he grown up? Why did any of them?

………..

_Shy away, shy away phantom_

_Run away, terrified child_

The night before graduation, when Harry _should_ have been celebrating his coming freedom (and his defeat of Lord Voldemort) with his fellow Gryffindors, Harry was in Severus' personal chambers, saying goodbye to the man he may have once loved.

His eyes, a lusterless green, had seen too much death to really shine, but when Severus moved to embrace him, they seemed to flare, if only for a second.

The kiss was slow, cautious, and though Severus thought he could never get used to the erratic movements of the Boy Who Lived, there was a comforting familiarity to them.

Harry pulled away, and his eyes hardened slightly with forced determination. "I'm going to marry Ginny."

Severus nodded. He had deduced as much.

"But I . . . I want you to know that I lo- . . . I'll think of you always."

Severus nodded, cursing the traitorous ducts he had nearly forgotten as they churned into motion. A single tear slipped down his otherwise stoic face. Harry smiled sadly, and was gone, a stranger to Severus if there ever was one.

………

_Won't you move away, you fucking tornado_

_I'm better off without you tearing my world down_


End file.
